Page 62 of The Diávolos: Part Two
At that same instant, mybabapeers up the stairs. I try to hide, but I’m too late.
“Giegie?” he calls.
I poke my head out. “Yes,Baba.”
My mother wipes her cheeks and rushes up the stairs. “My love, how long have you been out here?” she asks, gently running her fingers through my hair when she reaches me. I angle my head toward her chest and close my eyes for a moment, rejoicing in her affection.
“Not too long,” I answer.But long enough to overhear your conversation.“I just want a glass of water.”
“I’ll get it for you,kamari mou,” mybabaresponds. “Let your mother take you back to bed; I’ll be right up.”
Mamawalks me to my room, a solemn look on her face.
“What’s wrong,Mama?”
She immediately puts on a smile and cups my cheeks with both hands. “Nothing can be wrong with you around, my little baby.”
I smile back and lean into her touch. I know she’s lying. I know that she’s sad.Why won’t she tell me why?
Mybabawalks into the room with a cup and sets it down on my nightstand. Taking it as her cue,mamakisses me on the forehead, tells me she loves me and steps out.
Babasits on the edge of the bed and grabs my hand.
“What were you andmamatalking about,baba?Did you make her sad?”
My father’s face crumples before he tries to conceal his reaction. “No, Giegie. I didn’t make her sad. I saved your mother, brought her home. She just doesn’t see it yet.”
She never saw it.
My mama knew what was happening in the Sisterhood, but she tried to stop it, tried to get my father to shut it down.
I snap out of my daze when Eldora puts her hand on top of mine.
“Angelica,” she whispers so as not to startle me. “Where did you go?”
I drag my eyes from the hallway to hers and the corners of her mouth turn upward, her wrinkle lines bunching up at the corners. I can’t help but smile back at her, my heart already being soothed from the bitter reminder of my childhood. Eldora’s warmth is like a sudden beam of sunlight illuminating the darkest corners of the room. She’s always had that effect on me, which is why she’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mother in a long time.
“Tell me what’s going on, my child.”
“What happened tomamathat night?”
I’ve asked her this question before, many times, but she never told me anything more than what mybabawould say.She had a bad fall and died. It was an accident.
Over the years, I stopped asking, not wanting to hear scripted answers anymore. I’m hoping that this time I will be spared the lies.
“Be honest, Eldora. Please.”
She sighs and squeezes my hand. “Your father moved your mother out of the Sisterhood and into this house shortly after their wedding. He had promised your mother that he would put an end to the institution, and she believed him. Your mother loved Peter something fierce. She had so much faith in him.” Her shoulders slump, a look of sadness crossing her face.
“She spent the last few months of her pregnancy here, while your father went back and forth to the Sisterhood to shut it down—or so she thought. Turns out, your father was just working on finding a replacement for himself so he could have a lessactiverole at the establishment. He never planned on stopping it,” Eldora admits.
My heart aches for those young girls and for my mother, who had to live every day knowing what was happening to them and not being able to do anything.
“How do you know?”
“Your father was under scrutiny from your grandfather. The whole legacy relied on him, and he didn’t want to disappoint. If he’d stopped the Sisterhood, the entire Kouvalakis empire would have crumbled. Peter didn’t agree with the institution at first, but he didn’t do anything to stop it.”
“That makes it worse,” I say, almost in a whisper.
